Taking Care of Claire - Part 1

I think Claire hates me. After the whole, not Ukraine Ivan, I'm talking about our would-be mover, she really became upset. I knew being a parent would mean a lot of slamming doors, which is why I had all the hinges reinforced, but what Claire's doing is ridiculous.

SLAM!

"Stop slamming door, Claire!" I yelled.

SLAM! SLAM!

"I said stop!"

She yelled back, "I can't! How else can I let you know how mad I am?"

"I thought you weren't speaking to me?"

"Shut up, Dad!" SLAM!

I knew it was time for some heavy-duty parenting. Sandra walked in and said, "It's time for some heavy-duty parenting."

"I know, woman!" I told her. "I was already thinking that before you came in the room."

I made my way to Claire's room. A failed twist of the knob told me her door was locked.

"It's locked!" Claire shouted from the other side.

"I noticed!" I banged on the door with my fist. "Open this door now!"

"No!"

"I said now!"

I said no!"

I said, I said now!"

I said, I sa-"

I fired two gunshots into the ceiling. "Now, are you going to open it or not?"

"Not." was her rebellious reply.

I was about to shoot the lock and kick the door down when Sandra interrupted. "Oh, will you two stop? You're scaring Mr. Muggles. Just look at his fur. This is just too stressful a life for any Pomeranian. It's not healthy. Poor, Mr. Muggles."

I held back my desire to shoot the dog right out of her hands and said calmly, "I just want to have a talk with her."

"Well, I don't want to talk to you!" Claire screamed.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Three shots through the door. I kicked it, and it flung open.

Claire was lying on her bed, drenched in blood.

"Well, no wonder she's so moody," Sandra said, "she's on her period."